Cold Coffee
by Chirugal
Summary: Post 'Red Cell', Abby can't sleep for hearing five little words... The first story I wrote for my Sir/Little Tease 'verse. Gibbs/Abby, complete.
1. Insomnia

**COLD COFFEE** by Chirugal

**Rating:** M. Most definitely M. Well, if I'm honest, higher than M. Sssshhh! Huge amounts of PWP abound!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _NCIS_, Abby or Gibbs – they're property of the almighty Donald P. Bellisario and CBS. I'm just borrowing, playing, squeeing… and then putting them back in their proper places. I swear.

**Author's Note:** Set just after _Red Cell_, late season 2. Written from Abby's perspective, so it kind of only works if you get right into her head and do the voice and everything. xD

* * *

_Tell Abby I want her._

The phrase keeps going round and round in my head, whirling and echoing so loudly that there's no way I can sleep. This is ridiculous. Gibbs was talking about work, obviously. He was pissed at McGee when he said it, for starters – if he actually meant it in the way I wish he meant it, he wouldn't have sounded so angry. Who am I kidding? If he meant it in _that _way, he wouldn't have even said it.

It's four forty-five in the morning when I finally admit defeat and get out of bed, muttering obscenities as I head for the shower. I figure I might as well catch up on some paperwork while I'm awake – with Gibbs breathing down my neck for lab results all day, I'm getting a little behind. Hmm, Gibbs breathing down my neck. That's a good thought. _No! _Bad thought. God, Abby, this is really hinky. You're not usually such a slave to your hormones.

I shower and get dressed, singing every song that comes into my head to keep any errant Gibbs-related ideas at bay, and then leave the house, choosing to walk to work rather than drive. It's not far, and it's a warm night. I know I shouldn't strictly be walking alone in the dark – who better than me knows about the sickos roaming the streets? – but I like to think I'm Goth enough to scare off any predators. Plus, I have this kick-ass knife that McGee got me for my birthday last year…

There are a few truckers around, but mostly everyone's still asleep. Now, why couldn't I be that sensible? Oh, yeah… I'm majorly crushing on Gibbs. Geez, why am I making such a big deal out of one tiny comment? Tomorrow, I swear, he's gonna walk into the lab, and I'm just gonna lose my voice. Gibbs won't get why, but Tony… Tony definitely will. Would he tell Gibbs? I don't _think_ he would… Nah, more likely Gibbs would try to talk to me about it, make me tell him what's wrong. What would I say to him, though?

God, I need caffeine. Trust me to pick the one time of day when the stores are all shut. I walk past the coffee place with the Caf-Pow!s, shooting a longing glance through the darkened window. I'll have to make do with the crap they call coffee in the NCIS building. There's a reason none of us drink it – it smells like tar and tastes worse.

Here we are, home, sweet home. I nod to the guys on night security, and they don't even bat an eyelid. This isn't the first time I've come in at a weird hour, and probably won't be the last. Most nights, though, I'm here for a better reason than insomnia. I wonder if I can claim overtime for this?

I cross the minimally-lit foyer, heading for the bank of elevators and hitting the call button. Instantly the doors slide open, and I step inside the confined space, my fingers hovering over the button that will take me to my lab.

_Tell Abby I want her._

My traitorous thumb presses the button for the third floor, where Gibbs and the rest of the team work. I know he won't be there – wouldn't go there if he was – but if my stupid gut has forced me out of bed and all the way here, I might as well follow it a little longer. The elevator lurches upward and halts at its destination with a _ping_ that seems deafening in the silence.

Gibbs' desk lamp is on. Is he here? Why would he be here? Why am I freaking out so much? It's only Gibbs, after all. He's gonna think something's wrong a whole lot faster if you jump back into the elevator now, so start walking. Swallowing as much of my apprehension as I can, I force one foot in front of the other, making a beeline for the dim light that struggles to illuminate the large, open-plan office.

By the time I get around the corner, I can see he's not there. Phew, that was a close one. He must've forgotten to switch off the light when he left. My panic abating, I drop into his empty chair, staring at the ordered clutter that's strewn around his desk. He always seems to know where everything is – once a Marine, always a Marine, I guess.

It's kinda comforting to be sitting here. He's not around, but I can kind of feel his aura. Yeah, yeah, girl of science and all that jazz, but not everything can be explained by equations. Sitting here right now, I feel protected, like Gibbs is standing right behind me.

Oh, shit, he's not, is he? I spin in the chair, knowing I'm being totally irrational but not able to help myself. Of course he's not. It's like five-fifteen, and he's in bed like every other sane person who works here. And I'm just making myself crazy by sitting here.

I get up and snap off the lamp, plunging the entire room into darkness, but my night vision's good. I manage to get back to the elevator with no problem at all. I press the button for the lab, wishing Ducky was here. If I'm gonna tell anyone about this Gibbs thing, Ducky'll be the one. Kate and Tony would laugh, and McGee would just be weird about it. But Ducky's so British, he'd keep quiet. Well, after he related it back to six stories from when he was in college or something. He won't be in for a while yet, though – his mom's going through a bad patch lately. Maybe he'll stop by the lab before I see Gibbs. I hope.

Once I'm in my lab, I can get on the net, chat to some friends, forget about this whole thing. By the time everyone gets in, I'll have forgotten how good it feels when Gibbs smiles at me, the feel of his fingers brushing mine when he hands me a Caf-Pow!...

Sighing, I collapse back against the wall, knowing I'm not going to forget any such thing. "I'm so screwed," I mutter to myself as the doors slide open.

The lab lights are on. Okay, I must be really cracking up. I could've sworn I switched them off when I left last night. Then again, I was kinda preoccupied. For a second, I wonder whether there's an intruder in the lab, but security was just upgraded. After that incident with Ari in autopsy, we put new measures in place. Everything's overhauled every couple of weeks. Nah, can't be anyone unauthorised. Must just be me.

I shake off my foreboding and head into the lab, which is deserted, just like I thoug… Oh, my god.

Gibbs has just come out of my office. I stare at him, my mind going completely blank. He stares back at me. He has one hand on his gun, and he looks totally guilty, but really hot too, in a just-woke-up kind of way. Oh, wait. I should probably be saying something instead of drooling.

"Gibbs? What're you doing here?" That was way too uptight. I try to relax and smile, but I get the feeling it comes out more like a grimace. I'm so not ready to have this conversation!

"I could ask you the same thing," he answers, in that low, husky voice he has. He's gotten his emotions under control and now he's just giving me the same impassive stare as he does his suspects, which really pisses me off. Gibbs never looks that way at me; besides, it's him who was sneaking around my office! Oh, wait, I guess I already snuck around his. But that doesn't change the fact that he's here, now, before I'm ready!

"I couldn't sleep and I need to catch up on some paperwork," I tell him, which is the truth. Except I sound really angry about it. "Were you going through my stuff?"

Gibbs just runs a weary hand through his hair and doesn't say anything. I kinda feel bad for him. He looks like he needs a hug… this is so not Gibbs' style. Oh, god, he could have a brain tumour. What if he has a brain tumour? "What's up? You're scaring me."

He walks to my lab bench and sits in my chair. I stay where I am, trying to puzzle out the situation. And here I was worrying _I'd_ be acting weird today. "I was looking for the lab report on Petty Officer Davidson."

"It's on your desk," I say, without thinking. Shit, I wasn't supposed to know that. I gave it to Tony, and he could have put it anywhere. "I mean…"

Gibbs frowns at me. "You're holding out on me, Abs." Each syllable snaps out as an accusation, and I can't stop myself from wincing. I open my mouth to reply, but I can't think of anything to say. He transfixes me with those furious blue eyes of his and tells me, "You don't _get_ to hold out on me."

Stung, I concentrate on the only safe emotion I can get hold of: anger. "What, are you my Dom now?" Damnit, shouldn't have said that either. Now all I can think about is Gibbs tying me up and giving me orders. Am I blushing? "I'm sorry. I just… really need caffeine."

I really need to kiss him, more than anything in the world. If I look at him, I know I'll just snap and jump into his lap or something, so I keep my eyes on the floor, and try to ignore the prickling sensation that's coursing through my entire body. So I almost miss it when he says, 'Here." So quiet I can hardly hear it.

I take a deep breath and look up. Gibbs is offering me a half-empty coffee cup – he must have brought it in with him. All the anger seems to have left him, and he's smiling at me like he usually does… just the barest amused upturn of his lips.

I reach out and take the coffee, realising immediately that it's long since gone cold. When I can't get to the Caf-Pow!, I get coffee and wait for it to go cold before I drink it. And Gibbs remembered. "Thanks." I'm smiling, he's smiling. We're so bipolar today!

The coffee is strong and bitter… kinda like Gibbs, come to think of it. I take a big gulp and then set it down on the counter behind me. When I turn around, my eyes catch his, and I coulda sworn… "Gibbs, were you just checking out my ass?"

_Tell Abby I want her._ Maybe, just maybe…

Gibbs rolls his eyes and stands up. "I'm gonna go look over that report. Let me know when the ballistics are through."

"Aye aye, Gunny!" I'd usually get a reprimand for that, but he doesn't look back as he leaves the lab, and now I'm checking out _his_ ass. And then he's gone, and I'm flopping into the chair he vacated because my knees have turned to jelly.

That… could've gone better. Did I really say the word 'Dom' to Gibbs? Argh! But then again, he didn't force me to tell him what I was thinking. Even though I still have no idea what he was doing in here in the first place.

This coffee is really good, though. I take another swig of it, trying to calm myself down and figure out how I'm gonna act around him for the rest of the day. I definitely need to avoid Tony if I can, or I'll never hear the end of it.

I turned off Gibbs' desk lamp. Crap! He's gonna know I was there. Wait. Is that… footsteps?

Gibbs strides back into the lab, his eyes alight with something I can't even identify. I should ask him what's going on, but my brain won't let me form the words. With one hand, he takes the coffee from me, slamming it down on the counter. With the other, he's pulling me to my feet, roughly, but steadying me as I stumble. "Look at me."

My entire body is quivering with anticipation, but I can't look up at him. That look in his eyes is just too intense for me to face right now. I give the barest shake of my head, and an electric shock zings through my skin as he tilts my chin up with a finger. "Look at me, Abby."

I never could hold out for long against Gibbs. I raise my eyes to his, and suddenly I know what he was doing here. Before I can even begin to process the implications, he brushes his lips over my forehead, letting them linger there for a second before moving on to plant an equally soft, slow kiss on my cheekbone.

I think I'm dying. A huge smile is working its way over my face, but I'm powerless to stop it. As Gibbs draws back, I see a flash of uncharacteristic uncertainty cross his face, and I know his intent this time was about as far from platonic as it's possible to get.

I stand on tiptoe to reach his forehead, his cheek, kissing him the way he kissed me. His arms creep around to embrace me, pulling me close against his body as his mouth travels down the side of my face to rest on my spiderweb tat, catching the flesh there and biting ever so gently.

This is so hot. He hasn't even kissed me on the lips yet, but somehow this is more intimate. Craving more contact, I press myself as close to him as I can get, relishing the feel of his firm, muscular chest against my breasts.

Gibbs pulls back to look at me, and this time I can return his gaze without flinching, because I know he knows. He smiles and pushes a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. "You were at my desk, Abby."

"You were in my lab, Gibbs."

His low chuckle vibrates through my body. "I couldn't sleep for hearing you call me your 'silver-haired fox'.

Wow. I didn't think he'd even remember that one. "Try hearing you say 'Tell Abby I want her' for six hours straight!"

He laughs properly at that one, his face splitting into an unguarded grin. I love when he does that! It doesn't happen that often. "Sorry about that."

"No problem, my silver-haired fox," I tease him, and his fingers tighten on my waist. This feels so natural… shouldn't I be at least a little uncomfortable with him at this stage?

"Abby… if you don't want this, you know you can just say so," he tells me, all of a sudden the perfect gentleman. Weird, in all my fantasies I just always imagined he'd grab me, and kiss me, and push me up against the wall without letting me say a word. But he's as considerate towards me with this as he is with everything else he does for me.

I lean forward and kiss him, cause I know he won't do it. I push my lips gently against his, and I can feel his surprised intake of breath in the split-second it takes him to register what I just did. Once he does, though, he kisses me back just as gently. One of my arms is around his neck, the other hand rests on his chest, and he covers that hand with his, entwining our fingers. It's one of the most erotic things I've ever felt, just for its simplicity.

When we break off, we're both breathing heavily and my insides are on fire. He's still holding my hand in place, and I can feel his heart tripping through his shirt. "What time is it?" he asks.

There's a clock on the wall behind him. "0530 hours, sir!" I could do a little mock salute as well, but then I'd have to move away from him.

"How early do you usually get visitors?"

Oh, yes. "0730 hours, and even then not that often. How d'you want to spend the time till then, Gibbs? I have a deck of cards in my drawer…" I don't get any further. He kisses me again, and this time it's so heated and possessive that I can hardly believe it's the same person. One hand cups the back of my head, preventing me from drawing away – as if I'd want to – and the other arm crushes me against his chest.

I kiss him back, making sure he knows I'm not afraid of a little rough. His tongue tries to gain entry to my mouth; I force it back with my own, taking control for just long enough to prove that I can before I give in to his advances. For the most part though, I'm happy to let him do what he wants, because damn, the man is good. If he weren't holding me so tight, I might fall over.

I manage to get my hands under his shirt, exploring the warm flesh of his back with my fingertips. In response, he slows his assault, giving us both time to breathe as his fingers tease their way down my neck and over my breast, somehow finding my taut nipple through my clothes. He continues down further than I'd ever expected, slipping his fingertips up under the hem of my tiny mini-skirt and toying with the fishnet fabric that covers my inner thighs. God, please, yes, let him…

He drops his hand away, and before I know it I'm giving a disappointed groan. I can feel his amusement rumbling through his chest, and give him a mock glare, trying to will away the awareness of how wet I've gotten in just a few short minutes. "You bastard."

"So I've been told," he says, and I feel a small stab of jealousy before I remember that Gibbs is Gibbs, after all, and there isn't a single person in the building who hasn't called him a bastard at one time or another.

"Are you gonna keep teasing me like this?" I complain.

"Maybe all day," he answers, sliding a hand up under my shirt, under my bra, to roll one of my nipples between his fingers. Holy shit. I arch forward, craving more contact, but he stops and moves away from me completely.

Hopelessly turned on and deprived of his touch, I sag against the workbench, doing my best to look forlorn. "You wouldn't leave me like this, would you, Gibbs?"

"Would you be giving me this routine if I really were your Dom?" he shoots back, and a shock of amazement goes through me. Is he _offering_? It's been ages since I've subbed, and I thought I was over it, but if it's Gibbs giving the orders…

I decide to test him out, standing straight, my hands behind my back, ignoring the need pulsing through me. "No, sir."

His eyebrows rise as he takes in the change in me. "You do this a lot, Abby?" His voice has shed most of its affectionate tone, becoming more authoritative, and I realise he must have done this before. Wow, who'd have thought?

"Used to, sir," I answer him, letting myself fall a little further into a submissive mindset.

He shakes his head, but I can see the intrigued expression he tries to hide. "I don't want to start off that way."

Damn. Well, I guess not 'damn' exactly, because at least we _are_ starting off, but... that could've been fun. "Okay… sir."

Gibbs chuckles and pulls me into an embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around me and kissing the top of my head. "What do you want, Abs?"

I start to trace my fingers over the skin of his neck. "Duh… what do you think I want, Gibbs?" You. In me. Now.

"The same thing I want." His hand moves from my back down to cup my ass, then pulls up my skirt again to rest his fingers just below where I want them. I draw in a shaky breath as desire flares through me again. Just the thought of those fingers against me, inside me, makes me want to fall apart right there.

I disentangle one arm from around his neck and calculatedly push my hand over his hardening crotch, never looking away from his face. His eyes flutter closed for a moment at the sensation, but when he opens them they show a glimmer of mischief. His fingers twitch again, skimming the cloth of my panties, and it's a concentrated effort not to cry out. Instead, I kiss him again, grinding my hips over his erection and causing us both to catch our breath.

"Not a good idea, Abs," he breathes against my lips. "I don't have anything with me."

Excuses, excuses… "I'm on the pill," I whisper back. "Come on. Take what you want, Gibbs-man." The words are barely out of my mouth when he pushes his lips back against mine, his hands working down my panties and fishnets. I make short work of his pants, and soon I'm holding his erection, teasing him even as his fingers seek out my clit. His rhythm is so skilled that within seconds my knees have given out and he's the only thing supporting me. I can't do this for much longer… he's going to make me… oh, god…

He takes away his hand just as I think I can no longer hold out, pulling me back from the edge. I murmur something wordless, but he just smiles. "Not yet."

To pay him back, I push him back against the workbench, moving in close and guiding him into me before he knows what's happening. Oh, Jesus, nothing has _ever_ felt this good. Slowly, I grind against him, testing his reaction. Gibbs emits a low growl of pleasure that rocks me to my core and grabs my hips, thrusting deeper into me, then almost all the way out again before returning. Again, I get the feeling that I'm being possessed, that this is his way of telling me I'm his, all his, and will be forever.

I don't have any problem with that.

He pulls me to the floor, taking care that I'm on top. The tiles don't look too comfortable for him, so I hesitate, but he shakes his head and bucks up into me once again, reminding me why we're there. I start to move, taking control totally away from him, concentrating on maximizing this incredible feeling. Gibbs' hands grab my breasts again, tearing off my shirt and bra and tracing every contour of my body as I ride him into the ground. The closer he gets, the rougher his touches become, and the closer _I_ get. Just as I think he's going to lose it, his thumb brushes my clit, starting up that amazing rhythm again, and oh, fuck, I can't last any longer… Whoa…

Every single synapse in my brain goes nuts, blocking out every remaining coherent thought as the throes of orgasm shudder through me. Best. Feeling. Ever. Seriously. _Gibbs…_

I can't think straight, but I have to keep going for Gibbs, and he's guiding me, helping me, rolling me over onto the tile to pound into me for those last few seconds before he comes with a tiny groan and drops his head onto my chest as he rides it out.

I may be clinically dead. I'm hot and sweaty and mussed and exhausted, but if there's a woman happier than me on this planet, I'll be very surprised. Wow. I always knew experience counted for something, but…

"You still with me, Abs?" Gibbs asks, pulling out of me and drawing me close.

"Still with you. I didn't wear you out, did I?" He shoots me a mock-glower, and I just laugh and curl closer to him. "Well, at least we got that out of the way before everyone came in today."

"Gonna be able to hold it together?" he asks.

I raise myself up on one elbow to give him an indignant glare, but somehow it turns into a smirk. "Gibbs, please. I'm a professional."

It's definitely gonna be an interesting day.

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**There may be more, depending on uni deadlines, interest, and the whereabouts of my elusive muse. Feedback is love!**


	2. Orders

**Author's Note**: Hi, everyone! Thanks a lot for all your feedback, I'm really glad you enjoyed the first chapter. Just a warning: I've made things more overtly D/s this time, so it might not be to everyone's taste.

* * *

**Gibbs**

I enter the lab, carrying a super-sized Caf-Pow! in one hand and my coffee in the other. It's business as usual – so why am I so certain I just wrecked the relationship we had by consummating it?

She's standing with her back to me, peering into her electron microscope, one foot tapping along with the deafening music that's coming from her stereo. She hasn't noticed I'm here yet, so I cross straight to the CD player and mute it.

She doesn't even look up. All right, maybe she did know I was here. I take the Caf-Pow! over to her. "Abbs."

Abby makes a notation onto a pad next to the microscope before looking up at me, all wide-eyed innocence. "Gibbs." She gazes at me for a couple of seconds, completely deadpan, and I stare her out, waiting for her to get tired of the game.

The corners of her mouth twitch, and she finally gives in to her natural grin, taking the drink from my hand. "Thanks." So quickly I think I might have imagined it, she winks at me before turning back to her work, and I have to laugh. She really is a professional.

Relieved that she doesn't seem to be regretting anything, I take a swig of coffee. "What have you got?"

She frowns at her computer screen. "A whole lot of nothin'. No match on the prints, and the ballistics came up negative too. And the DNA won't be through until tomorrow morning. Sorry, Gibbs."

"Not your fault." She's gotten changed since this morning, and is now dressed in pants that look about four sizes too big for her and a tiny shirt. Classic Abby. And I'm checking her out like I've turned into DiNozzo.

It's a mortifying thought. I stare up at the plasma on the wall, but from the amusement in her throaty voice, I can tell she's noticed my interest. "Anything else I can do for ya, Special Agent Gibbs?" she teases.

A world of possibilities in one sentence, and no possible way of acting on them during office hours. I push the thoughts back… but not far enough. "Do you have anything else you need to finish here?" She shakes her head, looking up at me with those wide green eyes. "Then take the rest of the afternoon off. You look like you could use the rest." Not to mention I haven't been able to concentrate all day, and I could definitely use a distraction-free couple of hours before I finish for the night.

She nods and takes a sip of her drink, seeming torn between a longing for sleep and the urge to stay nearby. Glancing around to ensure that we're still alone, I drop a kiss onto her forehead. "I'll come by after I finish up here. Promise."

Her face brightens at the show of affection. "Well, if you put it like that…" She darts from machine to machine, shutting most of them down, then shrugs out of her lab coat and picks up her jacket.

We walk together to the elevator, and she taps the button for the ground floor, followed by the third floor. The doors slide shut behind us, enclosing us in the tiny space. I shoot a sideways glance at Abby, catching her doing the same to me. She drops her gaze to the floor, fighting back a smile as she twirls a pigtail around her finger, and my self-control snaps. My hand hits the emergency stop switch, dipping the lights and halting the elevator between floors even as I pull Abby into my arms.

She melts against me, one hand pulling through my hair as she kisses me deeply. I push her back against the wall, pressing her there with my body weight, and she gives a tiny growl of pleasure that sends a shiver through my skin. When we break for air, she shoots me a shaky grin. "Wanna come home with me now?"

The offer is almost too tempting to resist, but remembering the dead petty officer waiting for justice in the morgue, I shake my head. "Sorry, Abbs."

She just shrugs and smiles, as if it were already a foregone conclusion, and begins smoothing down her shirt, then mine. I can't help but chuckle as she pulls at my hair, straightening it, and then picks up her fallen jacket. "Okay. I think we're safe."

I wouldn't mind staying here a while longer, but it's out of the question. Reluctantly I hit the emergency button again, and the elevator continues its ascent to the ground floor, arriving all too soon.

"See you later," Abby says, and steps out of the elevator, crossing the foyer to sign out with a brief wave over her shoulder.

Alone again, I hit the emergency stop button and stare at the closed doors through the gloom, wondering just how I managed to get a young, hyperactive Goth scientist to even give me the time of day. My attraction to Abby is something that's confounded me ever since I became aware of it, six years ago. She's the exact opposite of every woman I've ever been involved with; the entire office knows that I usually lean towards sophisticated redheads. But Abbs… she takes me as I am, whether I'm handing her sodas or snarling at her for results.

I've never met anyone like her.

What the hell am I doing? I have a case to wrap up.

Sighing, I hit the emergency stop button once more, trying to focus my mind on the job as the elevator takes me back up to the office.

* * *

**Abby**

I've been kinda on-edge all day… which is weird, cause really good sex usually relaxes me. And it was really, _really_ good sex.

By the time I get home, I'm jumpy with anticipation, but also really tired. I re-caffeinate, then force myself to eat a sandwich, though I'm not as hungry as I should be. Then I start to straighten up the apartment, which I left in a total mess last night cause I was so preoccupied with Gibbs.

Though, who am I kidding? I still can't stop thinking about him. I can't believe we did what we did, right there on the floor of the lab. I can't believe he's coming over later. Most of all, I can't believe he wants me as much as I want him.

Argh! I'm getting too worked up. I need to relax. A shower should help me to wind down, right?

Totally, totally wrong. As I strip off my clothes and step under the hot spray, I can't help but flash back to everything that's happened. Not just the physical stuff, either. Stuff like the intrigue in his eyes whenever I mentioned submitting to him, the way he was checking me out in my lab this afternoon, and again in the elevator. By the time I've finished washing, my entire body is on fire again, but I resist the urge to touch myself – just.

I dry myself off, still lost in thoughts that would make DiNozzo blush, and wrap the towel around myself. Combing out my damp hair, I wander through to the lounge, and–

Oh my god, what the…?

"Geez, Gibbs, you gave me a heart attack!" I yell, as he looks up from perusing my book collection. He probably did something agent-like to get in – I'm not even gonna ask.

I see his gaze sweep from my face down my practically naked body, and can't help but react to it, desire tingling through me in a fresh wave. He smiles and crosses the room, closing the distance between us without greeting or apology, halting only inches away from me. I battle the need to throw myself into his arms, and wait.

"Step back." Oh, god, it's his Dom voice again… Does this mean he's going to play with me? For a few seconds, I can't comprehend, frozen to the spot. Gibbs' expression grows dark and a little dangerous, but his eyes watch me for signs of unwillingness, letting me know that it's still Gibbs in there. "Now, Abby."

My feet at last obey my commands, and I take a couple of steps back, into the doorway that separates the lounge from my bedroom. I already know what he's going to ask me to do next; my imagination's already in overdrive.

"Put your hands on the doorframe." I do, one hand on each side, gripping tightly to avoid falling over. The towel tied around me slips a little, and I bite my lip as I imagine what comes next.

Gibbs kisses me, deceptively soft, one hand sliding around to the back of my neck as his tongue teases mine. As he pulls back, leaving me gasping, his other hand unties the towel, which immediately puddles at my feet, leaving me naked and exposed. Cool air caresses my burning skin, sending a light shiver through me.

Gibbs takes a second to analyse me appreciatively, a slight, possessive smile on his lips. I want to beg him to touch me, but I don't know the rules yet, don't know if I'm allowed to speak.

"I'm willing to play with you, as hard as you can take," he says, and I have to force myself to breathe as a million and one images press themselves into my brain. "But we start out slow. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," I whisper, the automatic response spilling from my lips before I realise it. His hand on the back of my neck tightens slightly at my assent. Relief or attraction? I don't know, but I'm almost past caring.

"Safewords," he asks next, his eyes boring into me with such intensity that it's a struggle to look at him. "What are they?"

I never, ever thought I'd be having this conversation with Gibbs. "Just the one. It's G…" Oh, damn. My safeword for years has been 'Gibbs', cause I've always associate him with being safe and protected. But that won't work now… gotta think of something else, but my mind has gone blank. "It's just 'safeword'," I blurt out, knowing it isn't gonna fool him for a second.

He just looks at me, waiting. I screw my eyes shut and get it over with. "Okay, okay… I usually use 'Gibbs'."

He doesn't respond for long moments. I'm almost scared to open my eyes, and when I do, I know I've jolted him out of Dom mode altogether. I've never seen him this surprised.

He takes a few more seconds to regain his equilibrium before asking, "For how long?"

Wow, I don't even know. I start counting back in my head. "About… five years," I say finally. "I just really trust you, is all. And a safeword is something you trust someone to respect, and..." Oh, god, why can't I stop babbling?

Gibbs trails a finger over my lips, silencing me instantly. His commanding manner begins to resurface as he simply tells me, "Pick another."

Relieved that he's not going to interrogate me about how long I've really been lusting over him, I think about it. "Blanket." Blankets have always made me feel safe, too. Not that I can imagine ever having to safeword for Gibbs, but…

He's so close to me that I can feel his breath against my cheek. I inhale his scent – soap, coffee and a subtle hint of sawdust – and somehow manage to resist the urge to throw my arms around his neck.

He whispers, "Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to concentrate today?" I let my eyes fall closed, breathing deeply to try and calm myself down. "Every time I came down to the lab, there you were, with your pigtails and your smile, teasing me without even knowing you were doing it."

"Sorry, sir," I whisper.

"Just remembering what we did, right there on the floor… it was very distracting, little tease." His words are bringing back the images I've been trying not to lose myself in – his hands seizing my hips and pulling me onto him, his lips tracing the contours of my neck… oh, god, I don't think I can take much more of this.

"Was it the same for you, little tease?" he asks me, his lips moving tantalisingly close to my ear. A shiver of pleasure ripples down my spine as his hands creep up to rest lightly on my waist, grazing the bare flesh there.

"Yes, sir," I manage, though I can barely form the words.

"Tell me." His voice is a low growl that will brook no argument.

I swallow painfully, trying to get my mouth to obey his commands. "I couldn't stop thinking about your fingers, sir… how you teased me. I was so ready for you, and I'd wanted you for so long, but you drew it out so much I thought I was gonna go crazy…"

He draws in an unsteady breath, the only thing that betrays his struggle to stay in control. "Like this?" he says, one knuckle tracing a slow path from my collarbone, down my breast and over my nipple. I bite back a whimper of longing as his hand continues, dipping into my belly button and out again, coming to rest at my lower abdomen. "Look at you," he whispers. "I can feel the heat coming off you, and I'm not even touching you yet."

Without warning, he slips two fingers inside me, and I can't stop the moan that forces its way past my lips. "So wet, too," he continues, curling his fingers just right, almost causing my legs to collapse out from under me.

"Look at me, Abby," he breathes, and his use of my name compels me to stare up at him. He smiles slightly, and oh my god… His thumb glides over my clit, and I almost explode then and there. Unable to stop myself from crying out, I sway on my feet, my eyes falling closed. "Look at me," Gibbs commands more forcefully, his free hand steadying me.

With an effort, I open my eyes and fix them on his, hardly seeing anything, all my awareness focused on the way he's touching me. "Oh, god," I gasp as my knees threaten to give out. "Please…"

Gibbs immediately withdraws his hand, depriving me of the climax that was just about to claim me. Unable to believe it, I glare at him, trying to support myself on shaky legs, my arms burning but still stubbornly clinging to the doorframe. "Not yet," Gibbs tells me, before I can say anything. "You don't deserve it yet."

As my brain struggles to catch up, he kisses me hard. I can feel his erection through his pants as he presses against me, but I'm powerless to do anything about it, just the way he wants me. When he pulls away, he growls, "Don't you dare come until I tell you to."

I swallow hard, unsure what new torment I'll have to endure. He gets down on his knees, and I tremble with anticipation, not sure how much more I can take.

His mouth closes over my clit, and I reach up to the top of the doorframe, bracing myself against this new onslaught. His tongue is perfect, caressing me everywhere I long to be touched, and I will my body back under my control, thinking frantically of the things that don't turn me on at all. Sports… Fornell… centrifuges… Okay, maybe centrifuges do it for me a little… oh, god…

If I come, he'll be so angry, but I don't know if I can…

Just as I think I can't hold back any longer, he ceases his ministrations, and I sob with a combination of frustration and relief. Gently, he pulls me away from the doorway and into my bedroom, guiding me to the bed. At his instruction, I lie down, glad to relieve my aching arms and unsteady legs of their burden. He sits beside me, watching me with a concern I'm sure he doesn't mean to betray. "How're you holding up, little tease?"

"I'm good, sir." It's true. Now I don't have to concentrate on standing up, I feel like I can take as much as he's willing to give. I'm still the poster-girl for sexual frustration, but in the best kind of way.

"Then get up on your hands and knees, facing the wall," Gibbs instructs, and I comply, a little self-conscious. Behind me, I can hear clothing being drawn off, and have to resist the temptation to sneak a peek at him. Maybe just a quick glance… "Close your eyes and don't even think about opening them, little tease," I hear him say sternly, and can't help but grin.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir." He hears the laughter in my voice and begins to trail affectionate kisses down the cross tatt on my back. Anyone who thinks that this scene is all about yelling and pain is wrong. Okay, so that's a big part of it, and a totally hot part too, but it's not everything…

His hand slides down past the small of my back and over my ass. "Are you ready for this?" he asks, as I realise what he has planned with a shock of excitement.

There's really no other response. "Yes, sir," I say, and immediately his hand smacks down on my ass. The pain is exquisite, stinging me and arousing me in equal measure. I bite my lip and wait for the next blow, and the next… I lose count of how many, but by the time he finishes my skin is aflame.

And though I'm breathing heavily and tears sting my eyes, I'm nowhere near needing to safeword.

Once again, Gibbs' fingers delve into me, and I involuntarily push back against them, forcing them deeper, half-expecting a reprimand. "You're even wetter than before, little tease," he whispers, withdrawing slowly. "Lie on your back."

Relieved, I collapse into the new position, my eyes finally able to take in Gibbs in all his naked glory. In the lab, he didn't undress, but now… He looks just as hot as I always imagined he would; toned in all the right places without being a muscleman. And wow, he's really, really happy to see me.

He lowers himself over me, and it's an effort not to arch up against him. My pulse is so rapid that I can feel it humming through my entire body, and I want more than anything to take control of the situation, but I somehow manage to keep still. "Good girl," he whispers, and his smile is back. "Now, tell me what you want."

"I need you inside me so badly, sir," I gasp, desperate for release.

He kisses me, and I raise my head off the pillow to meet him. His tongue grazes my lips, and I submit to him, letting him deepen the kiss until I can barely gasp for air. When he draws back, we're both breathless. I can feel his erection against my thigh, driving me to distraction.

"Okay, little tease," he murmurs into my ear. His hand reaches down between us and guides himself slowly inside me, inch by inch, torturing me. "Show me how much you want this."

Let off my leash, I wrap my arms around him and surge up against him, moving with him as he begins to thrust, slowly at first, but then harder and with more urgency. I can feel my orgasm building and screw my eyes shut, losing myself in the unbearable tension, half-afraid that he'll deny me at the last second…

I arch up and let the feeling overtake me, my world fading into nothing but pure sensation. I've never come so hard in my life, and I'm dimly aware that I'm being really noisy about it, but I just don't care.

Above me, he lets out a shaky breath as my orgasm triggers his own, and he collapses atop me, still moving as we ride it out together.

Wow. That was intense. And my ass now really hurts, but it's the best kind of pain.

"Come back down for me, Abbs," he murmurs in my ear, and I begin to remember that yeah, my name's not 'little tease' – it's Abby. And he's Gibbs. He's Gibbs… I still can't get over that.

It's a struggle to start thinking for myself again. At first, I'm not quite sure how to. "I… I'm here," I manage to say muzzily against his shoulder.

Gibbs rolls off me and draws me into his arms. I rest my head on his chest, closing my eyes. His heart is still pounding, loud and rapid, in my ear. I guess I did good.

* * *

**I have some ideas for another chapter, which will probably be the last and a lot shorter, unless any dazzling ideas hit me. Feel free to suggest stuff – I can't promise I'll use it, but it'll definitely get taken into consideration. Thanks for looking, guys!**


	3. Control

**Author's Note**: Wow, it took a while, but I finally got around to finishing this. Hope you like!

* * *

**One Week Later…**

**Gibbs**

"Try to get free."

Obediently, Abby writhes on the bed, tugging at the handcuffs that restrain her wrists and the silk scarves I've tied her ankles to the bedposts with. "Can't," she tells me, half smiling, half apprehensive, as if she's unsure whether the response will lead to reward or punishment. Hell, with Abby, the punishment usually _is_ the reward.

I don't keep her in suspense. "Good." When I bring the whip up into her line of sight, her eyes widen and she bites her lip, a shiver of anticipation thrilling through her body. I pause for a second, giving her time to back out if she needs to, making no attempt to hide the way my eyes sweep over every part of her. "Are you ready?"

She swallows hard, her eyes on the whip. She shakes a tendril of damp hair from her cheek before answering, the words just barely whispered. "Yes, sir."

The way she submits, unquestioning, to my authority makes me want to end this right now. I need to be inside her, need to hear her beg for release, need to lose control completely. But not yet. This scene has to be played out.

Abby looks from the whip to me, and from the slight upward quirk of her eyebrow, I can tell she's caught my train of thought. "Or we could just…" she says softly, shifting seductively against the mattress.

Snapped back into my role, I stare her out until she stills and breaks eye contact. A flicker of amusement remains in her voice as she concedes, "I'm sorry, sir. I was outta line."

"You're damn right," I snap at her, and without warning crack the whip down onto her stomach. She yells in combined pleasure and pain, attempting to suppress the grin on her face.

I pause to let the blow register, knowing she's hardly even trying to be properly submissive. Most of the time, she lets it wash over her, sinking so far into the state that it takes time for her to come back from it. Tonight she's in a playful mood of a completely different kind, cheerfully insolent and willing to take all the punishment I can meter out. I already know that she'll let me whip her until she's sore all over and then defy me for just a little longer, testing how far she can push me.

I've never been one to back down from a challenge.

Abby looks down at the red weal that's rising on her flesh, then up at me. "That the best you can do, sir?"

I raise the whip, never letting my pissed off façade slip. "I haven't even started-"

Abby's phone rings, the unexpected sound disorientating us both. She groans, scowling at the offending object as if it's sentient. "Damn it! Not now!" She tugs at her handcuffs expectantly. "Okay, let me out of these."

I stand there, impassive, and she rolls her eyes. "Gibbs, seriously. Someone's probably dead and we'll have to go to work."

I know she's right, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Dropping the whip and stepping over the tangle of our clothing, I cross to the dresser and check the caller ID. Sure enough, it's McGee. For a brief moment I entertain the irrational thought of firing him, but it passes.

Without releasing Abby from her bonds, I hit the speakerphone button to answer the call. Taking a deep breath to steady her breathing, she speaks. "McGee, this better be good. I'm a little tied up right now."

As I stifle a chuckle, McGee stammers, "I know, it's really late and I'm sorry. But we have a problem. There's been a triple homicide in Fairfax, and Gibbs isn't answering his cell."

I left it in the car, which is parked outside Abby's place. If McGee tries to GPS-locate me, we're in trouble. I use sign language to communicate the thought across to her, and she winces. "He probably let the battery run down again," she tells McGee. "I'll stop by his place on the way into work, okay?"

"Are you sure? I can run a GPS search…" McGee offers, sounding a little suspicious.

"McGee, do you really want Tony to beat you to the crime scene again? Remember what happened last time? You get going, and _I_ will handle Gibbs." At this last, she winks at me.

_You're risking an awful lot here_, I sign to her.

_Relax_, she mouths back.

"You have a point," McGee concedes wearily. "Thanks."

"So what do I tell Gibbs when I see him?" Abby asks.

Silently, I sit on the edge of the bed. Abby's eyes widen, and she shakes her head at me, though I can tell her heart's not really in the denial.

As McGee begins to outline the case, I trail light kisses over her breasts and stomach. When I glance up, I can see she's not taking in anything McGee's saying to her. Her eyes are closed, and a tiny smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

"…Abby?" McGee's voice brings us both down to earth.

"Hmmm?" she replies languorously, before shaking herself out of it. "Sorry, Tim, what?"

McGee sighs. "Oh, geez… When you say you're tied up, you really mean that literally, don't you?"

Abby and I stare at one another for an instant before she cracks up. "I knew there was a reason you were promoted to field agent, McGee. Nothin' gets past you."

"Yeah, I'll be sure to tell Gibbs that," McGee says sarcastically. "I'll see you when I get back."

I swallow laughter as Abby tells him goodbye. He hangs up, and she sighs. "Triple homicide, Gibbs. Doesn't sound like something you can just blow off." I untie her restraints, and she sits up. "Can we continue this later, sir?"

"Count on it," I confirm, pulling her into my lap. She kisses me, pouring all her pent-up sexual frustration into the contact, and desire flares through me. For long moments, I allow the kiss to continue, pushing the awareness that I don't have time to spare to the back of my mind.

Abby moves her lips from mine, down my neck. If I let her carry on, I already know where it's gonna lead, and though there's nothing in the world I'd rather be doing… "Abbs," I say reluctantly.

She stops, getting up and taking a few steps back. Every nerve sensor in my body feels the loss of contact as she says, "Okay, we have minimum safe distance. If you come any closer than this, I can't be held accountable for my actions." She tosses my clothing across the room, then turns to her wardrobe.

As she flicks through the rail of clothing, obviously looking for something specific, an idea tugs at the back of my brain. I wonder if…

"Not that one."

She looks up from the shirt she's pulled out as I speak, puzzled. "Huh?"

I point at a red minidress that's hanging at one end of the wardrobe. "Wear that one."

She gets it then, taking the dress from the wardrobe and staring down at it as she ponders the implications. If she were to comply, she'd be letting me take control of her up a notch, out of the realm of just bedroom play. I don't know if she's ready for that, or if she ever would be, given time.

Abby is silent for so long that I begin to pull on my clothing, giving her time to think. When I look up, she's wearing the dress, nonchalantly leaning into the mirror to tie up her pigtails. Her eyes catch mine in the reflection, holding them for a second before she breaks eye contact, laughing softly.

I step up behind her and gently pull out the pigtail she's just perfected, combing my fingers through her hair. She drops a second hair-tie back onto the dresser, watching my reflection as I reach for her comb and run it through her black locks.

"No pigtails?" she murmurs. "You know I'm gonna have to tie my hair back when I'm working so none of it contaminates evidence."

"Uh-huh," I answer, dropping the comb and sliding my arms around her waist. "But until then…"

"No pigtails," Abby finishes. "Yes, sir." She twists in my arms, looking up at me. "I'm all ready to go. Wanna give me a kiss for the road?"

I'm only too happy to oblige.

* * *

**Abby**

I yawn, feeling the effects of yet another sleepless night. Not that it's my fault. See, I plan for the sleeping – it comes right between spending quality time with Gibbs and getting up for work the next morning.

It's been three hours since I got into the lab, which means it won't be long until the team get back with a truckload of evidence for me. A triple homicide's only ever one of two extremes: an open-and-shut, or a gigantic nightmare that swallows up all your free time for weeks. Usually I don't mind the overtime, but I haven't been this into a relationship in a long time. Maybe never.

Well, maybe with Owen. He was my first Dom, and I guess that counts for something. I'd just turned twenty, was completely disillusioned with plain old vanilla sex, and submitting to him was something I just fell into.

But with Owen and every other Dom I've had since, there was always something that was just… off. Like, they'd give me an order, but I never quite believed there'd be consequences for disobeying. They were all too worried about accidentally going too far, even while they were yelling at me. I seem to bring out that protective instinct in people.

Gibbs, though… He's different. When he gives me an order, it's like he expects it'll be obeyed, the first time he asks, without question. It's not an unspoken 'do this, unless you don't want to, I'm not pushing too far, am I?' It's just 'do this'. And it's hot.

Maybe it's cause we've known each other for so long. He can always sense when something's bothering me, and we both know it. He accepts that if I need to stop play, I'll safeword, and if I don't – as if I'd be that stupid – he'll be able to tell.

Tonight, before we got interrupted, I was trying to test his limits, see if he's capable of giving as much as I can take. Okay, so sometimes I can be a bad sub, and I deserve any punishment Gibbs decides I need – and he will decide. But right before McGee phoned, I could see he knew what I was up to, and he wasn't gonna hold back.

I touch a hand to the red welt on my stomach wistfully. Pain flares through it, bringing the events of a few hours ago back to vivid life. At least I have something to look forward to…

"Hey, Abby." Kate staggers into the lab, two plastic containers of bagged evidence weighing her down. Snapped out of my thoughts, I run over and catch the one on top as it falls, setting it safely on the workbench. "Thanks. Gibbs is in the crappiest mood ever, he made me carry all this down here by myse- Hey, your pigtails!"

Self-consciously, I shrug and run a hand through my loose locks. "Yeah, I know. I felt like a change."

Kate analyses me for a moment, smiling slightly, then nods. "It suits you." As I thank her and start picking through the evidence boxes, the bangles on my right wrist slide down my arm, revealing the slight marks Gibbs' handcuffs left there. "I'm sure your new playmate thinks so, too."

Flushing a little, I shake my wrist so the marks are covered again. I never could fool Kate – she's too good a profiler for that. "Oops."

Kate chuckles. "Your secret's safe with me. Just don't let Tony know."

Wincing, I set the samples to be DNA-tested to one side, then reach for my hair ties. Pigtails firmly in place, I glove up and open the first bag. "Definitely wasn't planning on it…"

"So tell me about him!" Kate orders, dragging over my desk chair and settling down to gossip. Normally, I don't mind her asking, but with it being Gibbs? So much potential for disaster… "Where'd you meet? What's his name?"

I open my mouth, my mind scrabbling for a convincing lie. Before I can utter a syllable, a brusque voice cuts me off. "I don't give a damn. Abbs, what have you got for me?"

Catching my sigh of relief before it can escape, I frown up at him. "Wow, Gibbs, growling and snarling, no Caf-Pow!... Wrong side of the bed, much?"

"Abby…"

"Okay, okay. I have nothing for you, Gibbs. Kate brought me the evidence like five minutes ago, and though I know I'm good, I'm not _that_ good. You should know by now that I'm not a miracle-worker!"

"Special Agent Todd, don't you have work to be doing?" Gibbs asks Kate pointedly.

She gets up guiltily. "We'll talk later, Abbs."

"Count on it," I reply with a smile. As she leaves the room, I continue to sort through the evidence, conscious of Gibbs invading my personal space when I'm trying to work – as usual.

When I first started at NCIS, it was something that pissed me off. As I got to know him, it became less irritating and more comforting. Lately, the sound of his breathing close to my ear makes my knees weak, and it's such a relief not to have to pretend it doesn't affect me any more.

I open my mouth to ask how long before the case is wrapped up and we can go home to continue what we started, but before I can utter one syllable, McGee comes through the door, a computer base unit tucked under his arm. "Gonna start looking through Lieutenant Gillespie's hard drive now, Boss."

"How long?" Gibbs asks.

McGee sets down the CPU, shooting me a despairing look. "Uh… it could take a while. She was a programmer before she joined the navy, so–"

"Get started." As McGee obeys, Gibbs takes my arm, steering me away from the evidence box. "Abbs, I want the ballistics report on the Carey case."

Incredulously, I stare at him. "Isn't this a little more important? It's gonna take me an hour just to prioritise this stuff, let alone start DNA running–"

"The director wants it now." I at last catch on to his subterfuge, and let him nudge me into my office with a melodramatic sigh for McGee's benefit.

"Could you turn the music down, Abbs? I can't hear myself think in here!" McGee calls after us. I hit the button to close the glass door behind me, shutting out most of the noise from the CD player, and hear his muffled 'thank you' in response. When I glance back through the glass window, he is busy finding leads and cables to connect up the base unit to one of my monitors. He'll be busy for a while.

I turn to face Gibbs expectantly, and nearly melt into a puddle of mush on the floor at his expression – predatory and considering at the same time. Without speaking, he points to the door to the ballistics lab. I grab the Carey report from my desk and head over there, feeling his eyes on me every step of the way.

It's not really much more private in here – there's still a huge window in the wall – but McGee will have further to walk if he decides to interrupt us. I hesitate, wondering whether to close the door, but conclude that it'll look too suspicious if I do.

Gibbs sits on the edge of the table. "In the corner," he instructs softly.

I'm _so_ not worrying about my workload any more. I do as he asks, standing in the corner opposite him, where I can't be seen by anyone looking through the window. I put the report on the workbench beside me and wait, trembling a little. What if we're caught?

Gibbs casts a glance out at McGee before speaking again. "Calm down. I'll only keep you here a few minutes," he tells me.

He could keep me here forever; I wouldn't care.

Gibbs gets up, closes the distance between us. Kisses me hard, dominating my mouth and making my entire body scream out with need. "Do you want to come, little tease?" he breathes in my ear, and I almost lose it then and there.

"Please, sir," I whisper, the words falling unplanned from my tongue.

He steps back, takes a seat on the table again, leaving me dazed and bewildered. "Then touch yourself," he murmurs – a quiet order, but an order nonetheless.

A shock of conflicting emotions shudders through me. Even as my pulse leaps and my knees grow weak, self-consciousness rears its head. "I…" I bite down on the rest of the sentence, knowing it's a lie. _I can't._ I know I can, and it would only take a matter of seconds, but McGee is less than fifty feet away…

"It's this way, or not at all," Gibbs tells me, breaking through my muddled thoughts.

Just thinking of being left like this is enough to strengthen my resolve. I don't relish the idea of redoing all my tests cause I was too distracted the first time around. "Yes, sir," I reply helplessly, and bask in the reward of his half-smile.

"Good girl."

With a shaking hand, I slip a hand up and under my minidress, pushing my panties to one side to seek out my aching clit. At the first touch, I have to swallow a cry of pleasure, managing to turn it into a ragged gasp instead. I fall back against the wall as my caresses become more urgent, and I can feel myself beginning to tip over the edge…

"Go easy, little tease. Not yet."

With a low whimper of frustration, I slow down, letting the sensations fade to a bearable level. When I open my eyes and dare to chance a look at Gibbs, the sight of his erection pushing against his pants sends me rocketing out of control again as I imagine how good it would feel to have him inside me… "Sir, please, I can't take this!" I gasp.

For long, interminable seconds, he doesn't reply. By the time he speaks, I'm half-sobbing with frustration, hot and dishevelled and burning for release. "Go on, little tease. Let it all go."

One touch is all it takes. Trying hard not to scream Gibbs' name loud enough for everyone in the building to hear, I clutch the workbench next to me and let the orgasm overtake me, barely aware of my surroundings as all the tension floods from my muscles. Suddenly boneless, I slide down the wall to the floor, trying to get my breath back.

Gibbs crouches beside me, stroking my hair, and I rest my head against his knee gratefully. "Thank you, sir," I whisper shakily.

For a couple of minutes, we stay that way, calming down, regaining composure. Finally, Gibbs pulls me to my feet and kisses my forehead, pulling errant strands of hair back into place. I hand him the ballistics report, grinning. "It's all in there."

He takes it with a chuckle as I check for signs that McGee has noticed anything wrong. My music seems to have drowned out any noise I might have made, and he's tapping away on the keyboard, his brow furrowed in classic McGee confusion. Relieved, I take a step back out into my office, and am pulled up short by Gibbs' hand on my shoulder. Puzzled, I look up at him.

"From now on, your orgasms belong to me. You have them when and where I say you have them, and nowhere else. Clear?"

Resisting the urge to kneel at his feet in total submission, I swallow hard. "Clear, sir."

"Good girl." He gives me a swift kiss, mindful of McGee's line of sight. "And maybe one day soon, you'll wear my collar around that pretty neck of yours."

He moves past me out into the main lab, leaving me dumbstruck and speechless in the office. Collared to Gibbs? I can't think of anything I'd ever want more. A huge smile spreading over my face, I smooth down my dress and skip back out to McGee, turning to the huge piles of evidence with renewed enthusiasm.

"Gibbs must be stressed," McGee tells me without looking up from the computer. "He's more pissed off than usual, _and_ he's left his coffee behind."

I follow his line of sight – next to the electron microscope is a cup of coffee. I pick it up, registering its temperature and knowing immediately that it wasn't left here by accident. "He won't want it," I reply nonchalantly. "It's cold."


End file.
